


i need your company

by newmoons



Category: The Twilight Saga, Twilight, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Saga, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmoons/pseuds/newmoons
Summary: "is there something wrong?" rosalie asked,goldeneyesdriftingfrom the top of her magazine. she did not seemphasednormoved, simplydistractedby curiosity.it wasfair; alice wasn'tknownfor her moods.





	i need your company

> _"come on over, i need your company"_

she approached rosalie and sat beside her, taking her hand and _resting_ her head on the blonde's shoulder. her other arm _held_ her knees to her chest.

"is there something wrong?" rosalie asked, _golden_ eyes _drifting_ from the top of her magazine. she did not seem _phased_ nor _moved_ , simply _distracted_ by curiosity.

it was _fair_ ; alice wasn't _known_ for her moods. she did have them, occasionally, but she was enough of a _ray_ of _light_ to not have been _defined_ , as rosalie unfortunately was, by the _fickle_ nature of a resurgent emotion.

the pixie simply _shrugged_. she wasn't sure she wanted to _address_ this just yet, this can of _worms_ and particularly sensitive discussion, if any.

"not _particularly_ ," she dragged out the words, _tasting_ them, _waiting_ for a welcome sign to continue. she couldn't imagine why rosalie might _reject_ her need for reassurance.

but it was a _sore_ thing, loss. and they had both lost things they had _wanted_. in some ways, they had lost the _same_ thing: alice, her entire human life. rosalie, the rest of hers, just on the _brink_ of success.

all of them, their _humanity_. though it was not as if they could not _change_ , that they were not _adaptable_. (what kind of _predators_ would they be, if not?)

they _could_ change. but so often this was permanent: once changed, they could not _return_. they could not move _past_. it was just like their immortality: _stuck_ like this, forever.

and alice knew rosalie's happy ending would, as she had said, left her under a _gravestone_ by now. alice couldn’t _agree_ , and maybe it was that way because she couldn't _remember_ what she had left behind. rosalie had _wanted_ old age, with a lover by her side.

alice had never _wanted_ death. at least, she couldn't remember why she would have. maybe, maybe after the _asylum_ , after the electric _shock_ therapy. maybe her _visions_ had been a _burden_ in that life. she couldn't remember.

_she couldn't remember._

"would you go back?" she whispered. and it was almost not for _rosalie's_ ears, but the _ache_ in her chest that _begged_ for a solid answer. she _hated_ not knowing, the _absence_ of a box to cradle her emotions by definition, by _cause and effect_ , by _reason_ , anguished her.

she was so _used_ to knowing.

rosalie _pursed_ her lips, and set the magazine on the glass coffee table in front of her. one leg _crossed_ over the other, _manicured_ fingers pushed golden curls from her stare, which focused _intently_ on an evaded one.

her eyes _fluttered_ closed under the weight of _uncertainty_. she saw rosalie, head tilted in _concern_ for her silence. she reached out, gently _pulling_ the smallest of the cullens into her chest, soft hands pressing her _closer_. her own fingers were _shaking_ , gently _uncurled_ against the fabric of rosalie's shirt. she thought, with a swelling in her chest, any movement now would _destroy_ her.

she nodded, the _smallest_ hint of movement, and rosalie _enveloped_ her future. she inhaled and exhaled, the scent of _roses_. expected. the scent of _honey_ and _sunlight_. healing. the scent of an _open meadow_ , of _wind_. cleansing.


End file.
